FIC: "Interim III" (SV, Reunion'verse, 1/1)
Interim III
Reunion'verse, during Reunion (the Monday following the first full day [Friday]). Spoilers for Reunion, Saturday morning
Monday, first week of June 2005
“Hey, Bill! Your stalker on line three!”
Bill Henderson sighed and reached for the phone. “You couldn’t have told her I was out, Sawyer?” he asked, glaring at Maggie Sawyer. She was a recent transplant from Gotham, still finding her way around Metropolis and the MPD, but she’d already established herself as the resident prankster. And she loved to rib Bill about Mrs. Jovanovich.
“Whatever for?” Sawyer hissed back. “She’s been so helpful in the past.” This was said facetiously.
It was true that a few of Mrs. Jovanovich’s clues had been helpful, once upon a time, but the last time she’d called, she’d told him about her latest vision in which a black-clad ninja stalked the streets of Gotham.
A ninja accompanied by a young man in a black and blue bodysuit and a boy in a colorful circus costume.
Bill had tried to point out that a bright circus costume would defeat the purpose of the ninja gear, but the old bat had been insistent, and Bill could no more be rude to her and just hang up than he could his own mother. Mrs. Jovanovich had not only babysat him as a child, but she’d been his Sunday school teacher at Our Lord of Metropolis Community Church for five years.
Bill sighed and pressed the button for line three. “Mrs. Jovanovich, it’s Bill Henderson. How can I help you?”
Twenty minutes later, he was finally able to hang up, having assured Mrs. Jovanovich that her tips would receive the attention they were due. He had taken notes like he always did - he swore she could hear his chicken scratches over the phone - and now he glanced them over, sighed, and crumpled the sheet into a little ball. “Ten points!” he declared as the ball of paper landed in Sawyer’s wastebasket.
“Hey! I wanted to hear the latest from Nostradama,” Maggie protested as she bent over and fished out the paper. She uncrumpled it and immediately started laughing. “Another superhero?” she exclaimed. “What is this, number seven?”
“Eight,” Bill corrected. “You’re forgetting Alien Chameleon Man.”
“Right,” Maggie drawled out, and proceeded to count them on her hand. “Ninja Guy. Body-Suit Ninja Guy. Circus Kid. Xena Warrior Princess. Arrow Guy. Green-Ring Guy. Alien Chameleon Guy - and now Flying Guy. I guess superheroing isn’t exactly an equal-opportunity employer after all.”
“Well,” Bill said absently, “she did say this guy will have a sidekick, a little blonde girl, but she’s not clear on when she shows up.”
“Estimated time of arrival on this one?”
“Next ten years, just like the rest. Oh, and she reminded me that Alien Chameleon Guy is actually already here, but he hasn’t gotten active yet.”
Maggie sighed. “Bill, is there any chance she’s not crazy?”
“Well, the doctor she saw at Belle Reve thought she was all right so long as she actually stuck to her medication schedule. Mom raved on how nice the guy was. And she’s on state-of-the-art medication, remember?”
“Yeah, medication free-of-charge from the Luthorcorp pharmaceutical that’s keeping her in their study.” Maggie stared at the paper. “What’s this about the Luthors here?” she asked, pointing at a spot near the center. “Sounds pretty negative for someone whose delicate hold on reality is funded by them.”
“Something about the sun setting on the father,” Bill explained, “and rising with the son. More prophetic gobbledygook.”
“Huh.”
“Yo, Henderson!” Richards from Missing Persons shouted across the room. “Had someone on the line just now who wanted to declare Lionel Luthor missing and presumed dead! Wanna ride with?”
Maggie smirked. “Prophetic gobbledygook, huh?”
“Shut up, Sawyer,” Bill said as he launched himself out of his chair, and then he called out to Richards: “Anything to escape this!”
He left Maggie still perusing his notes. As the door into the corridor closed, he heard her call out, “Hey, does anyone know if someone named Lane or Kent works at the Planet?”
He shook his head as he followed Richards out of the building. Mrs. Jovanovich was just a nutty old lady. Ninjas in Gotham, and patriotically-colored flying men in Metropolis. What an imagination.
That, or the drugs.
[end]
Reunion'verse, during Reunion (the Monday following the first full day [Friday]). Spoilers for Reunion, Saturday morning
Monday, first week of June 2005
“Hey, Bill! Your stalker on line three!”
Bill Henderson sighed and reached for the phone. “You couldn’t have told her I was out, Sawyer?” he asked, glaring at Maggie Sawyer. She was a recent transplant from Gotham, still finding her way around Metropolis and the MPD, but she’d already established herself as the resident prankster. And she loved to rib Bill about Mrs. Jovanovich.
“Whatever for?” Sawyer hissed back. “She’s been so helpful in the past.” This was said facetiously.
It was true that a few of Mrs. Jovanovich’s clues had been helpful, once upon a time, but the last time she’d called, she’d told him about her latest vision in which a black-clad ninja stalked the streets of Gotham.
A ninja accompanied by a young man in a black and blue bodysuit and a boy in a colorful circus costume.
Bill had tried to point out that a bright circus costume would defeat the purpose of the ninja gear, but the old bat had been insistent, and Bill could no more be rude to her and just hang up than he could his own mother. Mrs. Jovanovich had not only babysat him as a child, but she’d been his Sunday school teacher at Our Lord of Metropolis Community Church for five years.
Bill sighed and pressed the button for line three. “Mrs. Jovanovich, it’s Bill Henderson. How can I help you?”
Twenty minutes later, he was finally able to hang up, having assured Mrs. Jovanovich that her tips would receive the attention they were due. He had taken notes like he always did - he swore she could hear his chicken scratches over the phone - and now he glanced them over, sighed, and crumpled the sheet into a little ball. “Ten points!” he declared as the ball of paper landed in Sawyer’s wastebasket.
“Hey! I wanted to hear the latest from Nostradama,” Maggie protested as she bent over and fished out the paper. She uncrumpled it and immediately started laughing. “Another superhero?” she exclaimed. “What is this, number seven?”
“Eight,” Bill corrected. “You’re forgetting Alien Chameleon Man.”
“Right,” Maggie drawled out, and proceeded to count them on her hand. “Ninja Guy. Body-Suit Ninja Guy. Circus Kid. Xena Warrior Princess. Arrow Guy. Green-Ring Guy. Alien Chameleon Guy - and now Flying Guy. I guess superheroing isn’t exactly an equal-opportunity employer after all.”
“Well,” Bill said absently, “she did say this guy will have a sidekick, a little blonde girl, but she’s not clear on when she shows up.”
“Estimated time of arrival on this one?”
“Next ten years, just like the rest. Oh, and she reminded me that Alien Chameleon Guy is actually already here, but he hasn’t gotten active yet.”
Maggie sighed. “Bill, is there any chance she’s not crazy?”
“Well, the doctor she saw at Belle Reve thought she was all right so long as she actually stuck to her medication schedule. Mom raved on how nice the guy was. And she’s on state-of-the-art medication, remember?”
“Yeah, medication free-of-charge from the Luthorcorp pharmaceutical that’s keeping her in their study.” Maggie stared at the paper. “What’s this about the Luthors here?” she asked, pointing at a spot near the center. “Sounds pretty negative for someone whose delicate hold on reality is funded by them.”
“Something about the sun setting on the father,” Bill explained, “and rising with the son. More prophetic gobbledygook.”
“Huh.”
“Yo, Henderson!” Richards from Missing Persons shouted across the room. “Had someone on the line just now who wanted to declare Lionel Luthor missing and presumed dead! Wanna ride with?”
Maggie smirked. “Prophetic gobbledygook, huh?”
“Shut up, Sawyer,” Bill said as he launched himself out of his chair, and then he called out to Richards: “Anything to escape this!”
He left Maggie still perusing his notes. As the door into the corridor closed, he heard her call out, “Hey, does anyone know if someone named Lane or Kent works at the Planet?”
He shook his head as he followed Richards out of the building. Mrs. Jovanovich was just a nutty old lady. Ninjas in Gotham, and patriotically-colored flying men in Metropolis. What an imagination.
That, or the drugs.
[end]